


No Peace For Bad Men

by MorMor_Fanfictions



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Drug Use, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Reichenbach, Smut, Suicide Attempt, a bit of sadness but there's smut so it's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:44:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorMor_Fanfictions/pseuds/MorMor_Fanfictions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jim's game with Sherlock has come to an end, Sebastian is forced to walk the streets of London alone. With the loss of his boss and his best friend among many other things, Seb is having a hard time coping. Jim's return could prove to be his saving grace or a downright disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Self-Destructive Tendencies

As it happens, time doesn't heal all wounds. Everyday it hurt just as much as the last; never ever stopping, the pain pounded in his chest constantly. He entertained the possibility that it just hadn't been long enough and someday it might be easier. Eventually he would move on, get a new job, start a new life, be happy again. All he knew was that he still couldn't walk by that hospital, or drive by that street, it took all he could manage to stay in their flat. Two years later and Sebastian had never stopped missing Jim.

In those years the flat had fallen to pieces, he actively avoided it if he could. The furniture hadn't lasted three months after Jim's death; There were too many sentimental connections he hated himself for having. He remembered all the times they sat together on the couch - so he shredded it. He remembered every time he ate take-out opposite Jim in the kitchen - so he tore it apart. Painfully, he remembered lying lazily in bed while Jim slept on his chest. He burned the mattress. Other bits of furniture slowly trickled out of the flat, each subject to more rage than the last, until the flat was empty. Nearly everything James Moriarty had seen, touched, or even been near was gone.

Sometimes, however, he would pause. It was the times when he paused that he saved those little bits of Jim. meaningless things to anyone else, but no matter how badly it hurt, Sebastian still kept them. He saved a tie, Jim's favourite, the navy blue Alexander McQueen with little skulls. The tie had suited him. After smashing up a few drawers, a little glint of metal caught his eye on the rug. He greedily shoved the little tie pin in his pocket. Every single one of Jim's books lived through Sebastian's fits of anger. The books Jim read, the ones he hadn't, the ones he loved, along with the ones he hated, all hoarded on Sebastian crammed little shelf. He had smashed the laptop, it had been one of the first things to go. It was impossible to live knowing that the device that helped lead Jim to his death still rested in Sebastian's care.

As months wore on, Sebastian spiraled back into the addicted lifestyle he lived before he had met Jim. Once again he was a regular at the local bars, drinking until he was sufficiently sloshed, picking a fight for the hell of it, and getting tossed into the gutters to spend the night. It was cold, it was lonely, and he almost always had a higher ratio of alcohol to actual food in his stomach. He couldn't manage to pull himself out of the depression, his senses were dulled and he had simply stopped caring for himself. Eventually the alcohol stopped working and he started to feel again, so he moved onto drugs. It started with cocaine. Simple enough to get in London and it helped for the time being. He was gloriously numb for a while. Numb to the world, the pain, everything. That too stopped faster than Sebastian liked, the more he took the less it helped. He quickly moved to the next drug before the sadness settled in his chest once more. Heroin came next, Sebastian found he liked it more than cocaine. This time he almost felt better. He could forget about Jim for a few precious moments and nearly feel happy rather than the emptiness that cocaine had offered. When those effects began to dull down he reduced himself to taking whatever was at hand.

A year and a half in and a whole cocktail of drugs coursed through his veins at any given moment. He bounced from anesthetics to stimulants, anything to make it stop. His latest fix came from opium, it gave him the emotional detachment he so desired. But everything stopped eventually, either the money or the drugs. When the money stopped Sebastian found himself bent down on dirty linoleum floors, whoring himself out for another hit. The drugs began to bore him and somehow they too dwindled down to nothing. With the lack of substance, Sebastian was left in a very hollow state; feeling nothing yet feeling everything. He was quickly driving himself mad, becoming ever more desperate as the long days wore on.

A month before the two year anniversary of Jim's death, Sebastian tried to kill himself. At the time he felt so certain, so utterly sure that this was it. He had lived through nearly two years alone and he couldn't go another. For the sake of the parallel, he had half a mind to shoot himself like Jim; though he quickly found he couldn't bear to turn the weapon he loved so much upon himself. Instead he crossed into his bedroom, stripping the sheets and twirling it into one long rope. The motions were simple, his hands carried him around the knot with a distinct fluidness gained only from practice. He dragged the makeshift noose over to the stairs, deftly tying one end around the banister. It was silent as he climbed up over the railing, even his mind stayed miserably quiet as he looped the noose around his neck and pulled it taut. He let himself fall. The impact didn't snap his neck, rarely did when it came to suicides. It wasn't glorious or honourable in the least, but it was absolute and he needed that. Reflexively he gasped, trying to draw air into his crushing windpipe. For what seemed like a lifetime, he simply dangled there waiting for his body to give out. The corners of his vision began to blur as his rapid attempts at breath grew more panicked. He had nearly slipped out of consciousness when he heard something splinter and snap. He had not the strength nor means to investigate; he hardly felt himself drop to the ground, hitting his head on the stairs before blacking out at the bottom.


	2. This Isn't Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ultimately broken, Sebastian has sunk to the lowest point he's been in since his military service. Nothing short of a miracle can repair wounds that run so deep.

It was terribly bright when Sebastian finally came to; his hands flew up to his neck as he gasped for breath, still remembering the feel of the bed sheet under his chin. His head pounded making him shut his eyes tightly to will away the light. Disoriented, he tried to recall where he was. The last he remembered was falling as the railing broke. Given a few minutes, Sebastian finally summoned the strength to look around; he found the hardwood floors underneath him and slowly raised himself up. A small splash of red decorated the corner of a step, Seb cautiously felt for the spot on his forehead. As he looked up at the splintered banister he quickly became aware of the fact that he no longer wore his homemade noose. For the second time his hands flew to his neck as he spun around in search of the sheet. He found it not far from where he had landed, one end still tied tightly to the bit of wood while the noose at the other end seemed to have come undone. With the fabric piled up in his arms he climbed the stairs to return them to his bed.

All the sudden movements made his head pound. He popped into the bathroom to assess the damages more clearly. It wasn't as bad as he could have imagined, nevermind that his intentions were to kill himself. He gingerly washed away the crimson before wiping it dry and continuing on to the bedroom. As quickly as he could manage without sustaining vertigo inducing pain, he dropped the sheet onto his bed and dashed down to the kitchen to get some pain killers. Fumbling with the bottle briefly, he dumped a few pills into his hand.

"You certainly look like hell." An all too familiar voice said behind him.

The bottle dropped from Sebastian's hand, little white tablets went rolling across the tile floors. He spun around, quickly regretting it as his hand flew up to his throbbing head.

"Easy there, tiger. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

"I'm dead" Seb managed.

"Sorry, darling. this isn't heaven."

He braced himself against the countertop, gawking at the pale Irish man standing in front of him. At first glance he looked unchanged, but closer inspection told a different tale; Jim looked tired. His usually meticulously styled hair stuck out at odd angles, his heavy lidded eyes seemed darker than Sebastian had ever seen them. He had traded out his designer suits for a cheap navy jacket, its collar slightly frayed. Still he wore a familiar lopsided grin that cut into Seb like a razor.

Jim took a few tentative steps toward him as Sebastian instinctively reached out to touch him. Pushing up on tiptoes, Jim leaned up to kiss him softly. Sebastian quickly reciprocated, both tried to keep it simple, but two years of loneliness and longing prevented that. Soon Jim was pinned against the refrigerator as the two of them went at it like the poor sexually frustrated bastards they were. Neither wanted to separate for much longer than it took for them to regain their breath, both had needed this far too long to stop it now.

Jim was the first to remember their situation. Begrudgingly he stayed Sebastian's hand as it wandered to his belt.

"We should talk before we do anything."

Seb gave a tight nod before leading Jim over to the sofa.

"You moved out of our flat." Jim stated, trying to look up at him as naturally as possible.

"You usually paid for it."

"You could've afforded it, I left you enough money."

Sebastian sighed and dropped down heavily across from him. "Do you have any idea what your death did to me, Jim? I knelt down by your lifeless body, I gave the order to remove it. I had to live without you."

"Contrary to popular belief, I can in fact comprehend that. I had to lay there while I watched you break down in front of me, I had to leave without telling you I was alive. I had to live without you."

"I thought you were dead." Sebastian said quietly

"Did you miss the fact that I just caught you trying to hang yourself, Sebastian?! I thought you could hold it together during my absence, I wanted you to run the empire but you fucked that up. You fell to pieces! I thought you were stronger than that."

"Don't you dare tell me I wasn't strong enough." Sebastian yelled, lunging forward to take hold of the front of Jim's shirt, "When you found me I was living in the gutters, this time I had something to lose. And now that something comes strolling in two years later only to tell me it wasn't that hard."

"You think it's been easy for me? I lived those same two years without you, but I could fucking hold it together." Jim sighed as Sebastian eased up on his shirt. He knew he had asked a lot from Seb, but he had never expected the man to be so broken up about it. He wasn't sure if he ought to be touched or angry, "I'm sorry, I had to leave. If I hadn't died that day, Mycroft would've made hunting us down his top priority."

"Where have you been hiding?"

"I started out in Ireland, but within a few months people started getting suspicious so I moved to Poland."

"You look like hell."

"You're the one with the bashed in forehead."

"It's not that unusual for us."

He glanced up as Sebastian gave him a small grin.

"You're staying, right?"

"If you'll let me."

Sebastian nodded, no matter how overwhelmed or upset he still was he still couldn't turn away the man he missed so much. Graciously Jim spent the rest of the afternoon humouring Seb's need for information. For once he didn't mock him for being dull, instead he watched as Sebastian's anger and pain slowly slipped away as time passed and he began to realise that Jim was really here to stay. In a few short hours he was caught up with the two years they had spent apart and, if Jim was very lucky, nearly at an understanding of why he did it.

Jim didn't push Seb to recount his own two years, he knew more than he would have liked. However there were bits that simply could not go unmentioned.

"Are you okay, Seb?"

He looked taken aback by the question, his eyes dropped to the floor, looking rather ashamed, "I think so. I mean, I won't try to, you know, again. Honestly I don't know what I was thinking, I think I would've regretted it. It just didn't seem like I had any other choices. You were right to say I fell apart, because I did. Now that I realise that, I wish I hadn't spent so much time with all that useless self-loathing."

"I'm sorry, I wish there had been a better way."

"I don't blame you." He admitted.

Jim nodded, "Look, Sebastian, I haven't gotten a decent nights sleep in over a year. Could I...?"

"Of course, my bedroom is just upstairs."

"Would you want to...?"

"Would you care if I...?"

They both looked at each other and Jim wordlessly followed Sebastian up to the bedroom. Seb offered up a pair of his old sweatpants and a T-shirt which Jim took, sheepishly undressing. He could feel Sebastian eyes on him as he tugged on the shirt, well aware that his physique had changed quite drastically in their time apart.

It was up an unexpected relief to crawl under the covers, instinctively Jim edged closer to Sebastian. Living on the cold streets he could endure, but Sebastian's body heat was the one warmth he had truly missed.


	3. Rehabilitation

In the course of a few weeks, Sebastian slowly began to accept the fact that Jim was actually here to stay. The first few nights were the worst as both men realised the deep seated pain they had caused the other. Sebastian would lie awake, watching the rise and fall of Jim’s chest for hours simply making sure that he was still alive. Jim on the other hand was sleeping more than he ever had before. Rather than having to persuade him to sleep every once in awhile, Jim was fast asleep before Sebastian more often than not. Sebastian’s hours of nighttime solitude were often punctuated by Jim’s recurring nightmares, as to their exact content, Jim would never say, but as time went on that too became more infrequent. 

Things had regained a small sense of normalcy, but not in their usual sense. They hadn’t resumed work, even though they both had mentioned it at one point or another neither of them were keen to get back into the business just yet. Even Sebastian’s guns were suffering, once kept in pristine condition by his daily regimes, had fallen into a state of neglect. He had taken up a job at a cafe down the street a few weeks prior; it certainly wasn’t a task he was used to, dealing with all classes of londoners and tourists alike, it was fairly painful dealing with the abuse for hours on end and he was just glad he had more patience than Jim. 

Jim had been back for two months before Sebastian had broached the subject of his death again. Some questions still pained him, but for the months he had been more than content just having him by his side once again. 

“Hey, Jim?” Sebastian called to him in the kitchen, it seemed in his absence Jim had picked up quite a fondness for cooking.

“mm?” 

“You never did tell me why you finally came back. In those years that you were gone, what changed?”

Jim stepped back from the stove and stared up at the light fixture as if pondering the question. “I don’t know, I honestly haven’t the faintest idea. I spent the last few months bouncing from country to country all across Europe and even Canada at one point-”

“You went to Canada?”

“Yes, I’m quite attached to polar bears, now if you don’t mind.”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“Yes, so eventually I made my way into Wales. It seemed safe enough and I spent weeks walking around in Cardiff like your average tourist and no one ever had any clue that it was me. I felt safe and I began to feel how close I was to you. While I was hiding in the various countries I always thought of when I could return to you, but it had never felt as real as it did then. Until one day I just dropped everything and got on a bus to London. I wasn’t thinking straight, but I just couldn’t help myself. I don’t even remember exactly how I got here, I just know I found you.”

Sebastian could only nod vaguely as Jim turned around to resume cooking. He still had questions, but those suddenly seemed far less pressing and he elected to ignore them for the time being. 

It was only a couple days later when one question, admittedly not one of the ones he thought most prudent, came floating back to the forefront of his mind. He spent hours lying awake that night thinking about it until he finally nudged Jim awake. 

“The fuck do you want, Seb” came his sleepy voice 

“I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Dammit, now?” He rolled over to get a glimpse of the clock, “It’s four in the morning.”

“I know, but it’s been bothering me.”

“Fine, what is it?”

“When are we going to start working again?”

His question was met with silence that lasted until Sebastian nudged him again. 

“Not now, Sebastian” 

“But I need to know! Ever since you came back I’ve been waiting for you to hand off your laptop and give me a target or anything to do. It’s driving me absolutely mad.” 

“This can wait.” 

“I feel useless, Jim. I haven’t shot anyone in god knows how long, I’ve barely left the flat in weeks.”

“We can discuss this later.”

His tone suggested that Sebastian had little to say in the matter so he fell quiet and soon enough Jim was asleep again. Still, Sebastian had no peace of mind. He laid in bed for an hour more before giving up and going to pace in the kitchen. On instinct he found his rifle, forgotten for months, and brought it down off its shelf to clean it. It worked to soothe him slightly and as a result he pulled gun after gun down until he had worked through his entire arsenal. 

It was nearly eight AM with no sign of Jim that Sebastian finally decided to take a few guns and go to the gun range. 

///ooo///ooo///ooo///

Jim noticed the absence nearly immediately; not because of the vacant bedside, but because it was the first morning that Jim woke up without the sound of Sebastian mulling around the kitchen waiting for Jim to wake. Curious, he poked his head out of the bedroom; when he didn’t find any sign of Seb he ventured out further. A glance at the wall clock told him that it was only half nine, rather late for an ex-soldier to sleep, but for Jim, it wasn’t entirely unreasonable. 

He busied himself with his emails, though since his abrupt departure from the criminal life he had few emails to reply to. During his leave of absence he took on the alias “Daniel Jacobi”, the name he currently used to send a handful of emails to people that had come into contact with him during his time away from England. It took another two hours before Sebastian finally returned, bringing with him the faint smell of cordite that Jim was once very familiar with smelling on him. 

“You’ve been out shooting.” He said more as a statement rather than a question.

“I couldn’t take it any longer, walking past that cabinet everyday without being able to open it.”

Jim nodded vaguely, he understood what Seb meant - he really did. Currently he wanted nothing more than to do away with Daniel Jacobi and ascend to Jim Moriarty once again, Sebastian would never be able to know how much this level of domesticity was killing him. He watched as Seb dropped his bag down on the kitchen table and began replacing his rifle into the cabinet, Jim did not know when he had stood up, he was only vaguely aware that he was right behind Sebastian now. 

“I’ve missed that smell.” 

“You always prefered the blood.” Sebastian said, turning around to meet Jim’s eyes.

It took Jim all of five seconds to grab the front of Seb’s jacket and pull him down onto his lips; Sebastian reciprocating by gripping Jim at the waist and pulling him in against his own body. Jim’s hands ran up the cold leather of Sebastian’s jacket, finding their place in his thick blond hair. He used Seb as leverage to give himself the dominant edge as he kissed him harder still, all the while scraping his nails into the back of Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian responded by working his own hands under Jim’s loose shirt, grasping at the soft flesh beneath to make his own marks. 

“It’s been a long time, Jim.” 

“Two years and, yet, here we are, wanting the same thing we always have.” 

Jim could never fully understand how right he was. Both men craved the other savagely, in an animalistic way that each tried to bury inside themselves, to rationalise. They had been apart so long, beaten by the brutalities of the lives they lived. Not haunted by their deeds, but weighed down by the realisation that they may never live that life again. 

Reunited in the moment, it had quickly become apparent that it was time for Moriarty to come out of retirement. His name had not yet died, it would carry on past the body it was attached to. Back from the dead, it was time to reignite the whispers of the underworld. Frenzied by their own sexual desires, the answers all seemed fall into place at the moment. It was so easy now with Sebastian’s warm breath on his neck, to realise that his empire was beckoning. Any previous worries over returning slipped away in an instant. 

Jim pulled away from Sebastian, “I have a few jobs for you.”

“I should’ve known you hadn’t stayed away completely.” 

“You want this, correct?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

Jim chose to let his reply fall silent in favour of kissing Sebastian again. Some portion of his mind registered that he should at least find it odd that sex and work were so closely linked, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised at all as Seb led him back to the bedroom. 

Still unmade from when Jim had woken up a few hours before, he fell back onto the bed, wrapping his legs around Sebastian’s waist while pulling him on top of him. Jim set to work tugging at Sebastian’s belt, tearing the bit of leather free before nearly ripping a button loose. In the back of each of their minds, they both were beginning to come to the realisation that this would be the first time they had sex together in years. The absence had done nothing to dissuade the vicious tendencies, as Jim sunk his teeth into Sebastian’s bare shoulder, thriving on the beads of blood drawn out. Sebastian pulled off his trousers in one swift movement, parting himself from Jim for a moment as the man did the same. As soon as Jim’s pants were off, Sebastian was pushing him back down onto the bed; His mouth trailed down Jim’s pale stomach, not stopping until his tongue reached the length of his cock. He could feel Jim’s grip on the messy sheets tighten as Sebastian tongue wrapped around the head of his cock before taking him entirely into his mouth. Jim afforded himself of drawn out moan as he arched his hips.

Hurriedly he fumbled around in the nightstand for the jar of lube that had found its way into the drawer even after the move. 

“Let me fuck you.” Sebastian whispered as he tried to pin Jim down onto the bed. 

In this moment Jim couldn’t be bothered to worry about the power struggle that usually beset him. At this point, he wanted nothing more than for Sebastian to be on top of him. With a nod, Jim obliged and Sebastian began hurriedly uncapping the small bottle. 

Sebastian could not help himself from kissing up and down Jim's back and hips even as he prepared him. With a careful intimacy neither were certain the other could possess, Sebastian pushed into him, gripping Jim’s hips tightly enough to leave the ostensible marks of his fingernails along Jim’s pale skin. Jim balled the sheets in his fists tightly as he moved in time with Sebastian’s rhythm. He could hear Sebastian’s breath steadily getting heavier and more ragged as he fucked him, murmuring phrases of endearment that Jim couldn’t quite make out. 

His mouth was unexpectedly hot on Jim’s skin as Sebastian kissed the gaunt shoulder blade before reaching a hand around his waist to take Jim’s cock in his palm. Pumping in time with his own movement, Sebastian bent forward to bite at the nape of Jim’s neck just before he came. He slumped forward onto Jim, collapsing on the bed beside him before remembering to finish him. 

Still slightly out of breath, Jim shifted closer to Sebastian, allowing the larger man to wrap an arm around him. Seb lay there, staring at the ceiling while Jim made himself comfortable on his chest.

“Hey, Jim?” Sebastian said after a moment.

“Hm?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, you never fail to mention it.” Jim mused, meeting his eye to allow for a brief, serious moment, “I’m sorry I had to leave, Sebby, I do love you.”

“I know, just don’t leave me again.” With that Sebastian gripped the other man tighter, confident for the first time in months that he would be okay again.


End file.
